There
was no one else in the Neuer Markt, for it was the supper hour.
Out in the middle of the river a few ships were moored: high-
prowed, square-sterned vessels of a Dutch build trading in the
Frische Haaf and in the Baltic.
The soldier saw the boat steal out towards them. There was no other
boat at the steps or in sight. He stood up on the edge of the roof,
and after carefully measuring his distance, with quick eyes aglow
with excitement, he leapt lightly across the leafy space into the
topmost boughs, where he alighted in a forked branch almost without
sound.
At dawn the next morning, while the shoemaker still slept, the
soldier was astir again. He shivered as he rose, and went to the
window, where his clothes were hanging from a rafter. The water was
still dripping from them. Wrapt in a blanket he sat down by the
open window to write while the morning air should dry his clothes.
That which he wrote was a long report--sheet after sheet closely
written. And in the middle of his work he broke off to read again
the letter that he had written the night before. With a quick,
impulsive gesture he kissed the name it bore. Then he turned to his
work again.
The sun was up before he folded the papers together. By way of a
postscript he wrote a brief letter.
"DEAR C.--I have been fortunate, as you will see from the enclosed
report. His Majesty cannot again say that I have been neglectful.
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